


Beasts

by solitarysister



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: First Time Post-Fall, I don't know, M/M, Not Beta Read, Short One Shot, not really all that sensual?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 21:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7284856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solitarysister/pseuds/solitarysister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>They've only just begun. Not five minutes ago they were sitting at a table with emptied plates before them. Compliments to the chef, offers to clean up alone, a bid goodnight. Will didn't know what he said, didn't know what he did but then Hannibal had him on his back.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beasts

_the arc of my throat awaits_  
_a tenderness or a brutality_  
_**(camille rankine)**_

Will makes himself a savior, crucified to the bed. And Hannibal crouches over him like a beast, savage and eager to sink his teeth in. Will knows he's wounded when he feels the warm sensation of a split lip. Yet it's Hannibal that makes the wounded sound. A beast at worship, teeth dyed red.

They've only just begun. Not five minutes ago they were sitting at a table with emptied plates before them. Compliments to the chef, offers to clean up alone, a bid goodnight. Will didn't know what he said, didn't know what he did but then Hannibal had him on his back. Losing time like this isn't entirely unpleasant. His senses overwhelmed, they erase anything less than vivid.

This is the closest they've been since the fall. The hours have been spent healing at a distance. Winding themselves up so the force of their collision could only be something violent. This is the love Will has chosen, the love that Hannibal offers in curled fingers breaking the skin of his hips.

Hannibal spreads his legs with bruising hands and their voices are indistinguishable as they sigh in relief at the friction. Lips smear bloody across Will's chest. Those lips, they're trembling now, tracing across the risen tissue of a scar. An old taste of Hannibal's love, gutting in more ways than one. They'll have to talk about that. Will will tell him how he learned it so well in the pain of healing.

And Will doesn't think there will ever be a time he's done with healing. And he doesn't think the worst of it is over just yet. But Hannibal's mouth is hot as heaven and Will melts beneath him.

He never saw the significance of allowing someone inside him until it was someone worthwhile. Hannibal (though Will doesn't want to give him the credit) is. And as he puts his fingers to Will's bloody mouth and tells him to get them nice and slick, Will sees just what kind of monster he's loving. Human. Entirely human.

Vulgar, too, but nothing pleases Will more than seeing Hannibal so far from dapper.

It's not until Hannibal's arm bends back and his face presses into Will's (healing, _healed_ ) shoulder that Will realises who's being allowed into who.  
Hannibal tells him it's been a while and it could take a minute. Will tells him he doesn't want to fucking wait.

So Hannibal doesn't make him. There's no risk of tearing but there's a burn. It'll have him feeling it and that's just how Will wants it. Little victories in fleeting injuries. He'll work his way up to something bigger, something permanent. He'll pay Hannibal back in full.

Will's no savior now, he joins Hannibal as a beast (the proverbial beast with two backs). Hannibal can't speak so Will does the talking for them. Hannibal doesn't like what he's saying so he kisses him quiet.  

Then they're moving in perfect sync. Hips parting and meeting in time. Hannibal finds his sweet spot and starts shaking. Will isn't so far gone he can't enjoy the show.

Hannibal slows, gets ahold of himself. He looks down at Will with eyes too sad for a beast and Will reminds himself he's human, they're human. He asks what's wrong. Hannibal tells him he knows what he's thinking. That he's not reciprocating, he's manipulting. He knows it because he's done it before. Will thinks he might cry.

Because Hannibal still wants this. Thinking that Will is only doing it for the sake of an upper hand, he still wants Will inside him. Wants him to be the source of all his pleasure and pain. And there's nothing more terrifying than realizing you'd gladly give yourself up to your own destruction. Especially for a man who might just have convinced himself he's indescructible.

And Will considers telling him to wipe away those god damn tears and finish what he started. But Will will reap what he sows.

So he runs his hands up Hannibal's thighs slow. And instead of carving similar markings into Hannibal's hips (it'd only be fair, Will is still stinging) he traces the soft outlines of bone to the center. He takes Hannibal in hand and clenches a fist around him so tight Hannibal cries out. Will is blinded as Hannibal clenches tight around him, too, and together they go slack.

Will tells Hannibal it feels like the tables have turned. But they haven't, you see, because Will's still the better half. Yes, he will be better so Hannibal can continue to be terrible. Even at his worst, Will will be the best. And if he can keep his word and Hannibal can keep some promises of his own, they might just make a life together.

Hannibal is crying now. There's no calling the tears a trick of the light. They run wet down his face and his bottom lip is made fuller in a quivering pout. Will pulls him down by the neck to kiss it and to split it and to lick it better. They separate and Hannibal looks at him with such devotion. Now Will's teeth are dyed red to match.

They find their rhythm again. Hannibal braces his hands on Will's lower stomach. Will pulls his arms out from under him by the wrists. Down to his elbows, they share breath. Will has nothing more to say. He feels his climax coming up and curves into it. Head back, the arc of his throat awaits, Hannibal can do as he wishes. Whatever he chooses, they are made of violence and Will knows it'll hurt like hell.

The hard, unsteady thrusts of Will's orgasm bring Hannibal to his own. He presses a breathless kiss to Will's lips, to his chin and a little further down. Will braces himself.

Whatever he chooses, it'll hurt.


End file.
